


Once In A Half Century

by MundyMorn



Category: Duck Dodgers in the 24 1/2th Century
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dodgers is Daffy, Drabble Collection, Gen, Sad, repost from ff.net, slight humour here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MundyMorn/pseuds/MundyMorn
Summary: Being frozen for three hundred and fifty years has a lot of implications. (Based on the head-canon that Duck Dodgers was once Daffy Duck.)





	Once In A Half Century

There would be times when Dodgers would stop to think about everything.

The Cadet noticed it- but admittedly, not from the beginning. He'd been assigned as Duck Dodger's one and only crew-member a few months after he'd been released from cryogenic suspension. But was only a few years later that he began registering those odd little times when the Captain would sit and stare into space, mind all but away from the universe.

It happened once in a blue moon, as they would say. Sometimes it would happen at odd moments, ironically after _big_  scale celebrations or victories. All the things that should have sent the arrogant duck prancing about for weeks, (and it would afterword) would result in him sitting silently on his own for a while. Leaving the Cadet to watch from the doorway in worry and uncertainty.

Many would argue that the Duck was simply daydreaming; after all, he wasn't the most intelligent or on-task bird that ever lived. Yet...there was always this little, faint look upon his feathered face that struck Cadet as so...un-Dodgers like. It was the look of someone who was longing or lost...and not longing as in desiring something out of greed as he usually did.

Somebody who wasn't connected with the world around him.

It was only then that the pig began wondering about the Duck's past...where he came from, how his daily life was -  _truly_ that is, as there had been many phoney tales.

What he did.

Who he knew.

That thought was like a hammer against a bell, a sudden halt in a thought.

Anyone Duck Dodgers knew, cared for or associated himself with was gone. The places had all changed, as had the universe itself. And yet the Duck never mentioned _a thing_  of it.

That got the Cadet thinking again. Perhaps he'd been more solitary? Without a friend in the world so he didn't feel any attachment personally to the twenty-first century? Perhaps the reason he didn't talk about anyone was that...there wasn't anyone to talk about.

Many including himself may had settled on that thought, as it would suit the avian Captain quite well. But after these years of working with him, and coming to know that deep down he _did_ have a heart, the Cadet knew better.

Especially since that, even though it felt like it only happened once in a half century, Duck Dodgers would stare out of the window, down at the earth, longing to return to a place he never could.

 ...

At times, Commander X2 would find himself pondering Duck Dodger's behaviour. Now it was no secret that the duck was a vile, arrogant, lazy and downright impulsive individual with no taste in anything, be it food or garment. His mind always seemed to be somewhere else, and if not entirely, he was always only half-focused. Any fool could see it on his face.

But it was not this behaviour that the Commander, though odd as it sounded, found concerning. No, he'd grown accustomed to Dodger's insufferable personality long ago. Instead it was those odd little gesture, words and phrases that only the Duck seemed to know the reason behind doing.

The Commander recalled one time the duck had spied him standing beside one of Mar's less-than advanced stereos and had, curiously, questioned it almost...sincerely. Something along the lines of 'I thought you were supposed to be a real nerd, Space Boy..." After raising a brow incredulously for a moment, the Commander had responded that he was no scientist nor mechanic of high level, but a military officer. Surely after all these years the oaf had gotten that?

It wasn't the stupid statement that got the Commander thinking, however. It was the reaction afterward from the earth creature. He'd blinked quietly before murmuring in a very uncharacteristic way: "Oh yeah...right."

X2 would have shrugged it off if a similar incident hadn't occurred later. It had been earlier in the war and the Duck hadn't known him as well as he did now. It was almost remarkable, the statement- one where Dodgers had been strapped to a oversized bomb developed to get rid of him for good.

'Huh. Guess you're sswtill workin' on sthis ah...Illudiamum space thingy."

The Commander had stopped, his hand just _hovering_ over the detonator, and despite his eagerness to proceed he paused. "What?"

The Duck had titled his head back and forth, as if mimicking someone and spoken in a poor imitation of the Martian Commander, "Illudiam Q36 Spthace Modula-tor. Kept hearing it aaall tha' time."

"...What  _are_ you talking about, Dodgers?"

"...Nothin'."

An Illudiam Q36 Space modulator was an old form of Martian explosive- over the wars, Martian Science had unfortunately degraded; some knowledge fell behind the Earth (to whom their technology was once superior by far) and more research was directed toward weaponry than astronomical actual science...as Space Modulators were more of a scientific, if not destructive, form of study, none had been made in centuries.

How had this incompetent duck known about such Martian technology? Of course he knew that the fool was from the past, but he never would have guessed that the creature encountered _Martians_.

These incidents with Duck Dodgers all seemed to add up to one thing, something that the Martian Commander really had to mull over. Then it clicked.

It was as if Dodgers was mistaking him for someone else.

Especially when, in the very beginning of their rivalry, (though he'd forgotten this until now,) the Duck had first looked at him with a raised brow, confusion and doubt upon his face and uttered:

"...Marvin?!"

 ...

There have been many a miraculous revelation throughout the 24th Century. Villains were unmasked, betrayals discovered, secrets unleashed upon the unsuspecting public of the Galaxy. One would think that after all the crazed events, the Milky Way would be accustomed to the sudden surprises that popped out of the stars.

But none could prepare them for what happened after the newest truce between Earth and Mars.

The Queen no longer perused the love of Duck Dodgers.

This would halt many in their train of thought- send them into a flurry of blinking, asking incredulously of the cause. Now it wasn't that the Queen no longer loved him...but let's just say the past, though not her own, had come back to haunt both she and the avian Captain.

She'd sent Martian Spies to the Research Labs on Earth prior to the truce- and though she held a facade of it being for Martian benefit (and it _was_ to a certain extent) the real reason, deep down, was to find any files concerning Duck Dodgers and his release from Cryogenic suspension. And not just things like how he was a water boy for a sports team...but personal things she was curious about.

No-one else but she and Dodgers know what she found. And no one dare question it, for they were met with Dodger's oblivious looks or the Queen's icy stare.

Tyr'ahnee was sat upon her throne, one curved and slender leg slung over the other, arms perched on the arms of her chair. A unreadable, enigmatic frown lingered upon her face. Clutched in her hand, unseen by all, was a small, folded piece of paper that she had read over and over again, with a small sense of longing, jealously...but above all...sadness.

And, dare she say it...a degree of pity.

It was a small, torn paragraph (printed from a pre-century computer by the looks of it) that had been hidden away in an old jacket pocket, delicately preserved in the ice for so my years like Dodgers himself.

It was this that made her realise just how little she knew him.

And, more importantly, how much someone _else_ had once known him. How aware Dodgers had been of their understanding...it was miraculous, really. No two people ever shared something so precious and strong...and it was a thing she knew they would never harbour.

Within this letter, much like a diary; a secret but truthful confession and relaying of one's unfiltered thoughts, housed a few simple lines that meant so much to the duck. She planned on returning it.

She'd never once thought of a woman being present in Dodger's life in the 21st Century. She admitted to herself that like many, she did not think of it much. In fact, no one addressed the issue of lost and unreachable loved ones.

Loved ones...and the words, as clear as if they'd been said in Dodger's voice, were undoubtedly written in adoration and gratefulness.

She knew, more than anyone, that none would truly understand Dodgers like this woman had once. No one in this time would follow his train of thought nor contemplate how strange and complex he could appear deep down...when he appeared so simply noble and cheerful on the outside.

She now knew why Dodgers would never truly love a woman, or share the same affections as she did. Not really.

It was simple. This woman had been irreplaceable to him. Did Dodgers think of her often? Did her face appear in his mind when he turned her down?

_"I know I've said a lot of terrible things about a lot of terrible people. But I've saved the terrible-ist for my girlfriend Tina. I've known many deranged people in my life, but I've never encountered the kind of profound mental instability that she possesses. Tina Russo is a psychopath. She may have everyone else fooled, but I know the truth."_

Did he, in his many solitary dreams, think of her?

_"Why else would the kindest, most beautiful, generous and intelligent woman in the world...go out with someone like me?"_

 ...

 

It had been a success in many ways. Duck Dodgers; found frozen in ice in the depths of the Earth, dormant for approximately three hundred and forty nine years, a month, two weeks and two days. His incarceration in the ice had been sudden; not gradual...which, by standards of the newest and most abnormal technology, left hope.

For years, even in the era before outer planet relations and inter-stellar travel, Earth had pondered the idea of freezing specimens in order to preserve them. Cryogenic suspension was the scientific term. But, no matter how they researched, no attempt had succeed. But they had come close before.

So very close. So when they found this duck, frozen so suddenly and without any damage or failure able to set in before the ice claimed him, Dr I-Q knew this was their _-his_ -last chance to prove the theory.

And it had worked. The first ever living being to be successful restore from cryogenic suspension, and Dr IQ was around and alive to see it. He'd never felt prouder. 

But...soon after, very soon, that feeling began to fade. The  duck's first reaction, clad in nothing but his feathers and an old fashioned jacket, had been confusion. Then he went downright loopy. Then, denial. 

But soon after the rejection and bemusement, and when proof and time began to take its toll...the reality of his situation sunk in. The Duck, dubbed Duck Dodgers for he seemed to have forgotten his name after being defrosted, finally realised the harsh truth. And Dr IQ...couldn't help but feel guilty.

But he had done no wrong!

He had _saved him._

Dodgers _seemed_ to have adapted well. A little too well. The world was strange to him; he would often claim that Earth had been _better_ in his time. Put it simply, the duck wanted to go home. And as guilty as he felt...IQ kept his professionalism and informed Dodgers he couldn't.

His brother, a renowned psychiatrist, offered to help Dodgers with his loss and confusion. But, the sessions proved fruitless. His information about the past was accurate and overall interesting; his view on the wars that passed during his sleep were unique...but he never, ever uttered a word about his own live, or more importantly, the people he knew.

Years later, IQ still wondered if the Duck even remembered.

But even as he tried to reason that he hadn't caused the Duck's pain...all he could do was offer one line, a subtle form of apology for something he shouldn't be sorry about. It happened after a grand meeting, deciding a treaty and whatnot...when the subject of Dodgers 'not being a part of this century,' was brought up when someone felt the duck was butting in too much.

It wasn't very comforting...neither to Dodgers nor himself. But at least IQ could put his mind at rest knowing he informed the Duck, that despite the annoyance and frustration he felt towards him, he felt sorry for the way things had to be.

"Dodgers...for what it's worth...I wish the research for releasing those from Cryogenic suspension was around in your time."

...

Anyone worth their salt knew Dodgers was no _good hero._

A creature as arrogant and egotistical wouldn't possibly be one of those rare few that would appear in story books;; who stood up out of their own good nature and went out of their way to make things right. Commander X2 didn't have a clue what gave Earth's government and scientists the notion that Duck Dodgers, the so-called 'frozen wonder,' from three centuries ago could _possibly_ fit this category.

He was standing alone; idly by a window on his ship. The newest truce called between Earth and Mars (and he had no doubt it would be brief...) had just been instated, and they were heading back to the reddened dunes of his homeworld.

So why, when he was heading home and away from the infernal duck, did he still wonder?

Maybe because he found he wasn't the only one.

X2 had distinctly heard Dr I-Q High, who he viewed as a very blubbering idiot considering _who_ he'd given a ship and Captain status, admit that he was worried Dodgers would sabotage the signing of the treaty again. Then he'd heard the Cadet remark Dodgers never would.

_Personally I think you are giving him too much, credit, Pig._

He was just about to butt in and mention that to him when IQ said something about blaming himself. Blaming himself for what- oh, could it be unleashing an unholy annoyance upon the universe? Sometimes X2 thought even _Dodgers_ would be better off still frozen...

...That thought disturbed him. The Commander removed his hands from where they sat locked behind his back and rubbed his forehead.

If anything, surviving such an ordeal was a blessing, surely...

Still. He was glad it wasn't him.

The Martian sighed and surveyed the empty cockpit of the ship. Hated as Dodgers was, he had to admit that infernal duck did have some scrap of 'goodness' deep down, as childish as it sounded. But _why?_ Just what was this Duck doing all of this for, if not to feed that over-loaded ego of his?

 That was why he sabotaged the pens in the first place. His purpose would vanish; no longer needed...

His eyes narrowed.

Perhaps Dodgers was more...insecure than he'd thought. But then again, he grudging admitted, who wouldn't be? He'd been given the job as soon as he recovered from his frozen state, given something to _do_. The Commander fiddled with his helmet a little, going on with that thought. What would it have been like, if Dodgers lost his purpose as protectorate? Though it had been proven that even if there was a short truce that there were still dangers to be fought, the Duck had been under the impression he'd be abandoned; Left alone.

With all the work he'd been given and the tasks he kept himself busy with...he'd never really spent much time actually getting more used to the new age. Granted, he took full advantage of all the newest technology and pleasures, but he never _adjusted_ or... _spoke_ to much people outside the task force. His only real friends were that doctor and foolishly committed Pig.

Commander X2 knew why he'd sabotaged the pens. For Duck Dodgers to remain meaningful, to have something in his life to grasp onto after losing everything after those years in the ice, the Universe would need him to survive. Even if he deliberately made it so.

He didn't like that thought. It made Dodgers seem...un-Dodgers like. Almost...understandable? _Impossible!_ That duck put hundreds of lives in danger so he could be in the limelight, nothing more. And even if it was to give himself something to hold onto, it was still a selfish motive...

Hm.

The Commander idly wondered if Dodgers had spent most of his life as a water-boy for that sports team.

"Incoming transmission from Duck Dodger's ship."

Bright white eyes within the blackness under the helmet narrowed. Oh, speak of the devil.

"Heya, Martshun!"

X2 turned sharply on his heel in a fluid turn and scowled up at the screen, where the insuperable and very much careless looking duck peered down at him. He spoke in a bored, impatient tone. "What is it, Dodgers?"

"Ah, just wonderin' how long ya thhsink the truce will last. A day?" He chuckled crooked to himself, "I got a bet with ole Star-Butt back there..."

"I won't be betting any money, Dodgers. You don't need any encouragement."

That spoken flatly, Dodgers rose a feathery brow. "What? Don' lookit me like thhat!"

The Commander folded his arms as he continued, "I didn't touch the pens this time, Jeez! I only _risthked_ my life to save everyone to make up for it!"

"Hmm. I'm very moved, Dodgers."

"Pfftht. If your gunna be like that, consider yourself left outa the bet."

He disappeared off the screen after chiming happily, "Be careful of transmission viruses~"

The Commander growled and clenched his fists. What had he been thinking? Dodgers wasn't at all bothered by his imprisonment in the ice, and the only reason he sabotaged those pens was so he could have fame and a pay-check- not because he was afraid of being left in a world he didn't know with no purpose.

He didn't deserve any pity. Not from the Commander, nor from the Universe. If any of it was true...the duck didn't need to be worried, anyway.

After all, The Universe, in an annoying and ironic sort of way, would always need him to survive.

 ...

 

 

"So how long do Martians live anyway?"

Like any sentence uttered by Dodgers that contained the letter 's', the phrase made the Commander wince a little before it registered. His hands were on the control console. They were sailing- teeth grindly quietly- through space. The new treaty had been reinstated, but it was to be temporary – the officials wanted more time to settle the bigger details. 'On edge' didn't begin to describe the galaxy. Dodgers seemed preoccupied with other things; not at all as nervous as his sidekick pig at being aboard what was – ahem – _previously_  an enemy ship on route to Mars.

Dodgers was to be the ambassador. Perhaps it was Earth's attempt to send someone the Queen would be more accommodating with. Commander X2's grip on the joysticks grew tighter.

"It is no concern of yours, Dodgers." He drawled, eyes lidded smoothly. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

Dodgers glanced past him at the stars ahead. Mars was nowhere in sight yet, mors the pity. "Just wonderin'. You know, I... _heard_  that sssomewhere that martians could live for like, a thousand years."

This time, the Commander didn't dismiss him. He was vaguely aware of the Cadet's gaze flickering over, too.  _Again_  with the enquiring about Martians of the past...

"Hundreds of years ago, Martians weren't nearly as numerous." X2 explained, keeping his voice flat. "They lived a great many years, but times change."

"So absolutely none of them would still be alive 'round now, huh?" Dodgers tapped the end of his beak, "It figures."

There was a pause. Commander X2 drummed his fingers on the control console. "I've noticed your interest in Martian history and technology, though I can't fathom why, Dodgers." He didn't hide the questioning note. Cadet was watching, lips kneading together. The Commander ignored him.

Dodgers did not get defensive. In a way, that was irritating. He simply shrugged, "Eh, I told ya before, bowling-ball, I met a Martian like you back in my day."

X2's eyes narrowed. "Are you insinuating that we all look the same?"

"Nah, I mean _really_  like ya!" Dodgers held a hand over the Commander's head, measuring his height (oblivious to his to his fury) "But he was smaller n' skinner, bigger head, better fashion sense, knew how to keep out a _draft_. Had the skirt, too."

Cadet and the Commander shared a look. Like the go-cart races, it was a rare thing for Dodgers to mention -  _anything_  from the 21st Century. The Commander stepped away, eyeing him down, "And I assume he was long-lived?"

"Pfft. Some other guy I know said he'd lived for thousands of years, tried to blow up earth once with a –"

"Explosive space modulator?" Commander X2 finished slowly.

Dodgers was now sitting in the Commander's vacant seat, popping a soda can open. "E-yup. He worked in our store once."

"But Captain Dodgers, you just s-said he tried to blow up the Earth." Cadet reminded him, a little shakily. Dodgers waved it off.

"Yeah, but the cue-ball calmed down a bit."

"...You mentioned an astronomer, Dodgers." Commander 2X had pieces, and oh was he putting them together. "I believe that is whom you speak of? The one you called –"

Dodgers crunched noisily down on a chip. He'd just opened a bag of 'Cheesy Dip Chips' and was blinking at him, "Who?" Several crumbs flew from his beak.

"This...Martian 'friend' of yours." The Commander said, anger slightly betraying his tone. "The astronomer worked with you? On _Earth_?"

"Oh, he went home on the holidays." The duck noted as if it were perfectly normal, munching on a chip, "Pretty express travel. I made sure."

Every answer just bombarded both the Cadet and Commander with further questions. Travel? He made it seem like travel between Earth and Mars had been as easy – and  _boundary-free_  – as going across the street. But back then, Earth hadn't bloomed. Hadn't discovered mandatory space travel, if he was correct.

Still, he couldn't understand earthlings being so...accepting of a Martian invader wandering around and, for what he was hearing, _living_  long-term on Earth. A Martian, that, according to this infernal duck, had been like...

Dodgers snorted to himself, sipping on his drink, "Yeah, he was just kinda 'around', that guy. Though one time we were bowling and I kept thinking his head was one of tha' balls."

The Cadet tried to stifle a chuckle at the image of the duck picking up some small, confused Martian and almost tossing him. But the Commander wondered if Dodgers was semi-aware of their prodding, as he was saying nothing else and watching the stars as if it were a TV Show. Noisily slurping on his soda.

Martians on Earth. Well, at least one. Regularly. What an odd place, the past.

"D-d-d- er, Cap'in Dodgers." The Cadet asked, sitting nearby, "Wh-what was it like, y-you know the cities, and such?"

"Eh, suburbia. Forests. Went sailing once."

The image of a little Martian astronomer wandering around suburbia, with a forest in the distance, forever implanted itself in the Commander's head. It wasn't overly strange or of note, but there was something...wholesome, almost homey, about such an image. What was the word? Peaceful? Before war between the galaxy's major planets had ever been whispered. Just Earth and Mars, floating in their own little pocket. Suburbia. How simple life must have been. Dodgers belonged there, the Commander decided.

Cadet thought about dodgers working a job in a sunburn town, with a Martian who he considered no real threat, going bowling on the weekends. Go-carting, water-boy for a team sometimes. It was nearly unfathomable, such a quiet life.

"Wh-what kind of store w-was it, Cap'n?"

Of all the things to ask. But the Cadet seemed to know what he was doing, smiling almost gently, indulgently, as if he knew something the Martian did not. Commander X2 noticed the far-away look on Dodger's face as he munched on his chips and realised that distracting him now, or prodding too hard, would break this little...spell he was going through.

It was the first time in his life that he'd ever felt something akin to 'pity' for Dodgers.

"Just the usual, convenience sthore, all that. Lil' bell on the door. Hired ole cue-ball as security. Them las-ther guns sure keep away the shoplifters, lemme tell ya."

It was like an epiphany, then.

Most people on Earth spoke to Martians with a (expected and  _warranted_ ) suspicion. Even those 'respected' by earthlings were kept at arm's length. Dodgers had never registered that invisible line. He'd chalked it up to stupidity and carelessness, but perhaps it was – dare he say – more than that?

He was  _comfortable._  With Martians. Utterly so. When he'd been on their planet, trying to hoodwink his way into the royal position, he'd been at total ease around the indigenous people...when he'd grown up knowing only the earth.

Comfortable because of this astronomer who'd lived in his town, who had gone from wanting to destroy the earth to living on it frequently, working and playing sports with the residents. What a time to be alive. It was almost unfathomable. Commander X2 placed a hand on his forehead.

Dodgers paused then, looking down into his now empty chip packet. "...huh."

The duck blinked and the cloudy look in the duck's eyes disappeared, "Hey, Cadet, we got anymore soda?"

The pig smiled placatingly. "W-we're stopping by a supply station in minus ten m-m-minutes, Captain."

"Great, I'll get ta pick-up some  _batteries_ for my gameboy."

They did not quiz the duck further.

...

Later, he and the pig were standing by the ship, awaiting Dodgers to return from his battery-soda haggling.

"Th-thanks for n-not pushin' it."

Commander X2 glanced sideways at the Cadet, watching him pointedly. "You are referring to...?"

The Pig shrugged, smiling only slightly. "Cap'n Dodgers doesn't usually talk about stuff like that and I'm just glad you didn't push it. Otherwise h-h-he'd-a caught on."

Caught onto the fact that he was yabbering.

"Hmph." He feigned indifferent, looking away from the pig. "Perhaps there  _are_  reasons he's suited to his position, but I doubt they outweigh the bad consequences."

X2 admitted this only begrudgingly.

Cadet watched the figure of Dodgers through the glass of the sell-station, his expression turning sullen. "I-its kinda sad. I wonder h-how he deals with it, sometimes."

"Best to allow him to forget when he can." X2 found himself saying.

"There's n-no way that guy he was talkin' about could be alive?"

Commander X2 sighed, and this time, he allowed some regret into his tone. "No."

He didn't mention that he'd taken the liberty of checking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
